Authors: J. Fields Jr.
Max Allen answered on the first ring.
“Hi Antonio.”
“Max.
First, my sincere apologies.”
“No problem.”
“Second, where are you?”
“On the back of a tow truck.”
Antonio felt his heart flutter.
“Dear God.
Are you still on property?”
“We’re by the loading docks.”
Antonio pivoted and was off.
“Moving or stationary?”
“Parked.
Too many people around to move, I think.”
“State police?”
“State police.
Casino cops.
Mark Ford is out here.
He says hello.”
“I’m seconds away.”
“Oh geez.”
“What’s happened?”
“Damien’s out there.
He’s yelling at everybody.”
“I can hear him.
I’m right around the corner.
Sit tight.”
Antonio chastised himself for not trusting instinct and following Damien.
His polished shoes flew over the walkway, brushed the top of the bushes as he hopped over them, cutting his path in half.
It looked like a crime scene.
The Brinks truck was immobile, banked in by State Police cruisers, red lights swirling.
A flatbed tow truck sat at an angle.
On the flatbed was the limousine, hooked, chained and strapped down.
A man in a red jumpsuit, whose logo matched the door of the truck, was smoking a cigarette and holding a clipboard.
Seven State Troopers with stiff uniforms, nylon holsters, leather gloves and jackboots stood in formation.
Two casino security officers lingered nearby.
Mark Ford, more rumpled than he’d been less than an hour ago, scowled at Damien who was making angry notations on his touch-screen phone.
“And
your
badge number?”
Damien stood stretch-necked to a State Trooper’s chest.
“Speak up.
I don’t want to get the wrong guy suspended.”
The State Trooper glared at the top of the casino host’s head.
“I’ll ask you one more time to get outta my face.
Well, you’re not tall enough to be in my face, but move anyways.”
“Keep cracking jokes.
I’m recording all this down.”
Damien’s thumbs hovered over the touchscreen.
“Spell your name.”
“I’ll give ya my initials.
F.U.”
“Does that stand for Fuck Up?”
The formation of State Troopers took one collective step closer.
Mark Ford jumped in.
“Hey, I don’t like him either.
But let’s all calm down.”
“Good Evening gentlemen,” said Antonio, formally presenting himself.
“First, is anything that has happened here tonight going to result in a summons to appear in court?”
The trooper standing toe-to-toe with Damien said, “The situation was pretty annoying before this pint-sized Pacino showed up.
Now I’m really pissed off.”
Antonio turned.
“Mark, I believe that the State Police are officially requesting the removal of Mr. Valentine.”
Mark turned to the trooper.
“Is that the case?
Because if that’s the case I’m obligated to follow your directive.
If that’s the case, which I’m asking.”
Damien jerked his head back.
“Nobody’s fucking removing me.”
Antonio peered down at him.
“This is the second incident this evening wherein your interference has caused a scene.
The first, I believe, involved a phone call to the press regarding the clandestine arrival of a celebrity guest.”
Damien huffed.
“You can’t prove that.”
“Phone records obtained from the Information Services department regarding outgoing calls on your company-issued cell phone may, in fact, accomplish that for me.”
Damien stuffed his phone into his trouser pocket.
“Those are private.”
“If you two are finished,” the trooper jabbed his thumb at the limousine.
“Can someone make this go away?”
“If I may?”
Antonio took the clipboard from the tow truck driver.
He signed and scanned the invoice and handed it back.
“Please have your office fax me a copy, my card is attached.
I’ll have the valet supervisor help you offload the vehicle.
You’ll be back on the road in ten minutes.”
The driver found a folded twenty dollar bill beneath the business card.
“Hey, thanks.”
“Your patience is appreciated.”
The State Trooper jutted his chin towards Damien.
“Now get rid of this prick before I shoot him.”
Damien slapped his hands together.
“I heard that.
Your boss is getting a call from me.”
Mark Ford stepped in front of him.
“In accordance with casino security regulations regarding compliance with Federal and State authorities I am escorting you down to the security offices where you will complete a statement regarding your involvement in this matter.”
“Bullshit.
I’m calling my department head.”
He brandished his phone.
Mark snatched the phone from his hand.
“Your phone will be returned after you’ve made the statement.”
He held up the phone and turned it in the light.
“This the new one with the navigation system?
Nice.”
He stuffed it into his pocket.
“Let’s get moving.”
“You can’t touch me.”
“Okay.”
Mark waved at his two security officers.
“Guys, come drag Mr. Valentine to the office.”
A guard grabbed each of Damien’s elbows.
“Get offa me you fucking rent-a-cops!
Don’t touch my suit!”
He was steered away, his feet shuffling sideways between the officers.
“You’re ALL getting written up for this – especially you, Cruz!”
Tripping over a bush, he cried out in a burst of spittle: “I expect a meet with Max Allen tomorrow!
Executive ORDERS!”
Antonio motioned for Mark to step to the side.
“We haven’t yet addressed how Ang Wang gained entry to the Sachem Suite.”
“That’s bothering me too.
I have a surveillance guy looking for him on the cameras to find out where he is
now
, but there’s no one to review the old footage to find out how he got in.”
“I think that’s vital.
At the very least we have someone who is not following policy and allowing people access to our premium suites.
At worst, he broke into the suite somehow.”
“Don’t you think I know that?
But if the guy isn’t counting cards or palming chips then it’s hard to get surveillance interested, especially on a weekend.
And we just got word from Homeland Security that since Bin Laden got popped, we gotta post guards to check trunks before entering the parking garages.
Maybe we’ll get lucky and instead of a bomb, one of them will be stuffed with an Asian guy holding a camera.”
“I can see your point.
Call me if you find anything.”
“Now can I go beat Valentine with a rubber hose?”
As Mark walked away the State Trooper extended a hand to Antonio.
“Thanks.
Even though I kinda wanted to shoot that guy.”
“I appreciate your restraint.
Here’s my card in case I can ever return the favor.”
“Head butler, huh?
That explains the bowtie.”
“
Champagne
.”
“You’re offering me champagne?”
“The color of the bowtie is
Champagne
.”
The trooper rolled his eyes, but then looked back at the card.
“Maybe I can impress the wife.
Anniversary’s in a couple months.”
“I can arrange a night to remember.
You deserve it after so many years of marriage.”
The trooper frowned.
“I been married twenty-five years.
How’d you know that?”
“The gold on your wedding ring has been nicked several times, and it looks tight on your finger.”
“It fit twenty five years and fifty pounds ago.”
He nodded towards the tow truck.
“What’s the story with the guy in the limo?”
“High-roller.
He’s somewhat eccentric.”
“Me being the State Police and all, I was a little worried about him not wanting to come out.
He wanted for murder or something?”
“He’s highly superstitious.
If I don’t greet him personally, he feels that it’s bad luck.”
The trooper grunted.
“He’s a nutcase?”
“He’s harmless.”
“He grow up in a bubble?”
“Vegas casinos.”
“Oh, he’s a nutcase.”
Antonio dialed his BlackBerry.
“Hello, this is Antonio.
Who’s on for valet supervisor?”
He arranged for someone to assist with the off-loading of the limousine.
The trooper spoke into his radio.
He looked at his men and raised his fist.
They withdrew to their vehicles.
The trooper asked Antonio, “You know anything about a bus full of women on Route 2A shaking their tits at cars?”
Antonio smiled.
“Proceed with caution.
They may be carrying a concealed weapon.”
Doors slammed, engines gunned and the state vehicles nosed into valet traffic.
Once clear they hit the sirens.
Antonio walked over to the limousine.
He reached up and rapped on the back door.
The door opened.
The interior light was on.
Max peered down from within.
“I was holding a pair of jacks.”
The limo driver leaned over from the adjoining seat.
“First good hand he’s had all night.
I feel kinda bad for him.”
Max pulled a roll of money from his pocket.
“Here ya go.
Good game.”
The driver fanned the bills.
“This is way too much.”
“You were good company, as always.”